Paranormal Pierce
by nicol-leoraine
Summary: COMPLETE - MASH 4077 is once again facing an onset of patients. Two of them have a strange history, and Hawkeye is soon confronted by something "spiritual". What will the surgeon do, when his "patient" ask him for help?


Disclaimer: I don´t own them, they´re the property of Twentieth Century Fox. All the characters you don´t know from the show, are mine, just like this fiction.  
If you have comments, send them to or look at my webpage Author´s notes: This is my first MASH fan fic. It´s a short story - well, shorter, than the other stuff I wrote, anyway - but I hope, you will like it. One warning - English isn´t my first language (nor the second:-), so there will possibly be gramatical mistakes. Tell me about them, so I can get better at English.  
Ehm --- if there´s any Dr. reading this, well, you should know, that I´m not a medic or otherwise learned proffesional. The illness that will appear here, is called Japanese Encephalitis and is similar to meningitis. I looked at it on CDC or other webpages, but didn´t find the historical facts I needed. So, forgive me, if at the time this ilness wasn´t know, or if it was know, and treated differently. It´s just my imagination, so...  
  
Go on, and read.  
  
** Paranormal Pierce  
  
Nicol Leoraine © 2004**  
  
It was one of these days - when one casuality came after other, and the doctors didn´t have enough time to sleep off the twelve or more hours lasting shift, when another choppers came from the blue sky. At the fourth day, it was clearly evident, that they´re working on sheer will. B.J.Hunnicut was currently trying to save the life of a nineteen-years old boy, who was accidentally shot by his comrade. Somewhere in his stomach where three bullets from an American gun. His comrade was on the second table, with the shrapnells from a landmine in his body.after his attempted suicide. Hawkeye Pierce, surgeon with great sufficiency, was the only chance the boy had, to open his eyes again. But the chance was really small, even with Hawkeyes extraordinary skills.  
  
Charles Emerson Winchester the Third, was working on a Korean boy at the age of twelve, another victim of a landmine. "How´s it going, Winchester?" asked Colonel Sherman Potter, treating a simple (at least, in this hour) gunshot. "Oh, really good. I´d just amputated the right leg from knee down to a kid. But at least, I saved his pity life. Really good," repeated the annoyed doctor.  
  
"You´re complaining, Charles? That´s new to me," quipped B.J., halfly awaiting Hawkeyes remark. But there wasn´t one.  
  
"How many are waiting?" asked colonel Potter thoughtless of the silence around him.  
  
"Three, but they´re just light cases," said Father Francis Mulcahy and walked next to B.J.  
  
"Can I help?" he asked quietly. B.J. shook his head.  
  
"I hope not, padre, but you can do a little prayer for him."  
  
Father Mulcahy made a cross and silently blessed the boy lying on the table, then got to Hawkeye, just as the surgeon groaned and shook his head in frustration. The pain that clouded his eyes was mistaken for sorrow above the patient. Father Mulcahy silently prayed for the boy just as for his surgeon.  
  
"It´s not good," said Hawkeye in the voice hushed from the mask, as his fingers worked on the last stitches. "Klinger! Take him to post-op." Breathing out, the surgeon watched as his patient was whealed out, then rubbed his eyes. Nurse Baker looked at him, troubled by the uncharacteristic silence. She knew, that Hawkeye was always sad when a patient so young had so little chance to a normal life, but this was something different. The bead of perspiration covering his forehead was disturbing even if the outside temperature was something akin to 102 degrees. In the middle of July, it was a really hot day.  
  
"Are you all right, doctor?" she asked him quietly and he blinked, slowly turning his head.  
  
"Uhm. Colonel.."  
  
"What is it, Pierce?"  
  
"I´m not feeling... well..." Hawkeye blinked and took a step back, nearly stumbling at the next table.  
  
"Hey, watch it!" shouted Winchester and Potter, like Hunnicut, looked at him.  
  
"Take a break, son. It´s a little hot here." admitted Potter, frowning.  
  
"Sure. We will take it from here."  
  
Pierce nodded, little ashamed, but more tired, than he would´ve like to admit. The splitting headache was making it hard to think, and he can´t endanger the life of a patient. He stumbled out of the op-room, not sensing the looks of his colleagues. Charles began to grumble about the favouritism, but Potter silenced him.  
  
"Winchester! Quit being an idiot and work! Hunnicut, do you know, what´s with him?"  
"No," answered B.J. worried about his friend and anxious to talk with him. "But I didn´t really talk with him today. Half the night he was at post-op, then came the injured."  
  
"Pierce is just trying to slip from his duties," announced Charles, when Klinger wheeled in another patient.  
"Charles, how would you like a little plastic operation? Because if you don´t shut up, I will make sure, that you will need it, soon." B.J. was angry and tired of the heat, just like everyone else.  
"Try that, you little..."  
  
"Enough, Winchester! Hunnicut! You both have patients, so quit the wrangle!" barked Sherman Potter vehemently. "Klinger - bring me the next one."  
  
Hour later, B.J.Hunnicut stitched up his last patient and walked into the room to change out of the bloody clothes. He stopped abruptly, seeing the sleeping form of his friend, half lying, half sitting on the bench. B.J. smirked, thinking that Hawkeye must be really tired, when he noticed his face etched with pain.  
  
"Hawk?" Hunnicut sat next to him and gently shook his arm. Pierce mumbled something, but didn´t awaken. B.J. saw the flushed face and put his hand to Hawkeye´s forehead.  
  
"I thought, that you´re married, Hunnicut. Anyhow, I´m not free tonight - I have a meeting with one of the nurses. If I could only remember, which one it is?" asked the man, smirking.  
  
"Now I know that you are delusional." answered B.J. with a lopsided grin and changed into clean shirt. Hawkeye rubbed his neck, softly turning his head to left then to the right side, wincing in the process.  
  
"Head hurts?"  
  
"Like hell."  
  
"Stiff neck?"  
  
"Uhm," muttered Hawkeye, then stood up and for a second wavered. B.J. grabbed his arm to steady him and Hawkeye nervously coughed.  
  
"I´m all right."  
  
"You sure don´t look like it, Pierce. You´re pretty hot to touch."  
  
"Geez, thanks for the compliment,"  
  
"What´s wrong with you?"  
  
"It´s hot in here, Beej. I didn´t sleep last night and I don´t remember eating since yesterday. That´s all, really. I just need a cold shower, some food from the messhall and sleep longer than two hours."  
  
"Fine. You have it. Potter is giving you a day off."  
  
"Oh," Hawkeye didn´t seem to be very happy with that.  
  
"That´s all? Oh?"  
  
"Uhm. The last I need is Potter being nice to me. I´m in trouble."  
"You better get that shower, Hawkeye. I think that our colonel is finishing his last patient."  
"Right," said Hawkeye and hastily walked into the burning day. The hot air hit him with a vengeance. Seeing the long front before the showers, he abbandoned the idea of a cold water, and headed to the Swamp.  
  
B.J. was on his way out, when Colonel Potter, followed by Charles Winchester, walked in.  
  
"I think that boy can make it, after all," said Potter, thinking about one of the Brittish soldiers, who was brought in.  
  
"Colonel... I think, Hawkeye need a day off."  
  
"How is he?"  
  
"Complaining about headache. I think, he´s coming down with something. I found him asleep on the bench," referred B.J. to his commanding officer.  
  
"Probably just a bad hangover," quipped in Charles. B.J. shot him a warning look. He was beginning to feel really protective towards his comrade, at least before Winchester.  
  
"If you listened before, Winchester, you should´ve know, that he was at the post-Op." snarled B.J.  
  
"Well, I think that all of us need some free days. If just this heat would pass... oh, General Wetters told Klinger, that the enemy is retreating. The casualities will soon recede."  
"Thank God!" exclaimed Winchester and walked out of the tent. B.J. heard a low moan and a curse, when Charles saw the front to the showers. He couldn´t supress a grin.  
  
"Hey, Hunnicut," asked the colonel, "Take care that Pierce get his nap, okay? I don´t really believe general Wetters - and I need all my surgeons in top shape."  
  
"Yes, dad," mumbled B.J. and walked out into the sultry heat.  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Going straight into the Swamp, B.J. found Hawkeye asleep in the same clothes and shoes. He was lying across the cot, with head on his arms, as if protecting it from any movement. B.J. yawned and finding that he too is tired, stripped only to his shorts. When Winchester came after 40 minutes of waiting for the shower in, both doctors where soundly asleep.  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
The heat was unbearable. His head was pounding, as if trying to win some rock competition. It felt, like he´s lying on the hot sand somewhere in Sahara, lost at the scorched desert. The sun was burning his skin, and every move he took, was slow and painful. His joints and muscles were dry - all dampness was gone, and his bones were rubbing against each other, causing a creaking sound. Like the skeletons making love on the metal plate.  
  
Hawkeye moaned and shifted on his cot, trying to get away from the heat. It didn´t help, and Hawkeye wriggled restlessly, his left leg nudging at the pile of nudistic magazines, sending them to the floor with a crash. B.J. jolted up in his bed, looking around with wide eyes. He was just dreaming about something, and in the moment of awareness thought, that they´re under fire. Then he saw the magazines on the floor and his friends restless form and rubbing at his eyes, B.J. stood.  
  
"Hey, Hawk..." shaking the wriggling man, B.J. was awarded only with a soft moan, followed by a murmured: "Kingdom for ice,"  
  
B.J. grinned, but the smirk left his face abruptly. Once again touching his friends face, he cursed.  
  
"Hawkeye... wake up. Come on... Pierce!" shouting loudly, Hawkeye opened his eyes in panic and jumped from the bed.  
  
"Wha...?!" In the next second, he was in B.J.´s arms, when his legs gave away.  
  
"Sit down,"B.J. directed him and concerned, scrutinized his condition.  
  
"Damn, Beej," Hawkeye moaned and grabbed his head, softly massaging his temples.  
  
"Don´t yell at me like that. I thought something hit me."  
  
"Sorry. I just wanted to wake you."  
  
"Choppers?"  
  
"No, well, not that I know. How are you feeling?"  
  
"You woke me to ask this?" wondered Hawkeye, looking at B.J., and seeing only concern. "Christ, Beej! I´ll feel better sleeping it out. But if you´re so curious, I felt better after a three days hangover."  
  
"That bad?"  
  
Hawkeye shut his eyes and lay down, holding his head like a big treasure.  
  
"I´m right back,"  
  
"Great. First he´s shouting at me, than he goes away."  
  
He must´ve dozed off, because someone touched him.  
  
"Open your mouth," ordered B.J. and when Hawkeye did it, wanting to ask why, B.J. inserted a thermometer.  
  
"Gosh, give me a break," mumbled Hawkeye, but became silent, seeing B.J.´s scowl. But he couldn´t supress an urge to roll his eyes, when B.J. grabbed his wrist.  
  
"Beej," he moaned gruffly as the doors opened and Hawkeye knew, that he´s in trouble.  
  
"What´s the problem, son?" asked Sherman Potter. Hawkeye reached for the thermometer, but B.J. was quicker.  
  
"Nothing, just B.J. playing doctor. I wanted to play with a nurse, but they were all occupied."  
  
"I see, your sense of humor is not lost completely. Hunnicut?"  
  
"103."  
  
"Yeah, but that´s the temperature outside," meddled in Hawkeye, keeping down his voice.  
  
"Symptoms?"  
  
"Headache, fever," named them Hunnicut. "And he stumbled a few times, so probably dizzines."  
  
"No sore throat, cough?"  
  
"Nope," answered Hawkeye for himself. "There´s no reason for the fuss. Some aspirin, few hours long sleep, and I´ll be fine." He turned at his CO, but winced. Potter saw it and frowned.  
  
"Stiff neck?"  
  
"Mm, it´s from the work," he tried to detract the attention. But Colonel Potter wasn´t in the mode for joking.  
  
"Turn it slowly to left, then to the right side."  
  
"Colonel," whined Hawkeye.  
  
"Pierce, do it." Hawkeye grumbled. He could turn his head, even if slowly and painfuly, however it wasn´t the full range.  
  
"Now nod."  
  
"Okay, I get your point. Not that I very like it. But I didn´t treat anyone with meningitis."  
  
"Yeah, I also thought about it. But you were in MASH 8063 the last week..."  
  
"No such cases, either." Hawkeye answered sleepily and blinked. Both doctors saw it.  
  
"I think, it would be best take him to post-op," suggested B.J.  
  
"No. If it´s a case of meningitis, I wan t him in isolation. The VIP tent is free. I will call first to 8063, however. If they´ve another case, we will at least know for sure."  
Potter left and Hawkeye seemed to fall into slight slumber. B.J. watched him shift restlessly. Soaking his handkerchief in a water, he applied a cold compress on his forehead. Hawkeye blinked.  
  
"Thanks," he mumbled, little embarassed by the whole thing. "You know... when I was kid, one of my best friends died from Brain fever. One day he didn´t come to school, and my dad said, he´s sick. The other, he fell to a coma. Three days after, I was standing at his funeral. Dad said, that he couldn´t do a thing. It was so quick."  
  
"You´ll be allright, Hawkeye," B.J. saw the fear in his eyes, as Hawkeye remembered the fate of Billy Krochek. "We don´t let you die."  
  
"Dad didn´t save him, Beej. Sometimes - it just isn´t possible."  
Before Hunnicut could respond, Colonel Sherman Potter returned, his face grim.  
  
"News?" asked Hawkeye, trying hard to hide his nervousness.  
  
"8063 have five cases. They don´t know, what it is. Seems like meningitis or encephalitis. It doesn´t seem to be infectious, though. Three of the men wasn´t in contact, and one of the patients was brought in with a single shot wound. Few hours before they send him back to the front, his condition worsened. But two of them is on the road to recovery."  
  
"And the other three?" asked B.J. somehow reluctant.  
  
"Two have just began to show the first symptoms yesterday. They´re isolated and on antibiotics and supportive care. Colonel Sterling will update me on their conditions, if anything change. The last one died."  
  
"Great."  
  
"Don´t be so low spirited, Captain! We will put you through it, even if it means, we are void of Chief surgeon. Do you understand, Pierce?"  
  
"Uuhhh, yeah, just don´t shout, please,"  
  
"Oh, sorry."  
  
"What other symptoms they had in 8063?" scouted Hunnicut.  
  
"I don´t really wan´t to know it," halted him Hawkeye, but looked at colonel Potter questioningly.  
"They observed tremors, stupor, disorientation and..."  
  
"...and coma?" guessed Pierce and slowly sat up, removing the wet handkerchief and putting it to the back of his neck. "Just great. Can I get something to drink?" B.J. handed him a cup of water.  
  
"What, no Gin? No Martini?"  
  
"You need fluids and Martini is too "dry" for you. No alcohol."  
  
"It´s getting better and better. Do they know, how contagious that stuff is?"  
  
"They have some ideas, nothing sure, though. The transmission through air isn´t very likely. They have problems with mosquitos."  
  
"Oh, damn!" cursed Hawkeye. "I was scratching the whole way back."  
  
"Little vampires spreading little viruses?" joked B.J. not at all humorly. Hawkeye rubbed at his temples, and returned B.J. a hot handkerchief.  
  
"So if it´s not contagious, Hawkeye can be in post-op, right?" asked B.J.  
  
"We are full, Hunnicut. And while we don´t know for sure, how "contagious" this thing can be, I would rather not have Hawkeye in contact with other patients. Their immune system could be compromised. And we are awaiting another group of injured."  
  
"When?"  
  
"Tomorrow morning."  
  
"So, I can stay right here, in my bed."  
  
"Rather not. The VIP tent is empty. Just for a day or two, then the stream of injured will slow down." Hawkeye sighed.  
  
"Hunnicut, bring here a wheelchair."  
  
"Oh, no, I can walk. Really!" protested Hawkeye and stood up. B.J. was right next to him, in case he got dizzy. Hawkeye took one hesitant step, then another. The throbbing in his head was matching the beat of his heart, resonating inside his skull. Outside the tent it was worse. Hawkeye felt as if the sun was burning his brain and he wavered. B.J. was next to him, ready to catch him. Colonel Potter also watched his steps, which unnerved Hawkeye.  
  
At least, he won´t have to walk through the full post-op, looking like a mummy. The VIP tent provided a little shadow. Hawkeye lay down in his new bed and tired, shut out the world. He was only half aware of Major Margaret Houllihan coming in. As the cold cloth was placed on his head and chest, he felt a relieving shiver ran through him.  
  
"That´s great," whispered Hawkeye and opened one eye, to look at the nurse. Margaret was waving a big needle, smiling.  
  
"Well, I hope, you wouldn´t mind. Turn on your side, please..."  
  
"If I didn´t know you, I would say, that you´re enjoying this too much, Margaret," uttered Hawkeye.  
  
"Ouch!" he yelped as Margaret inserted the needle. "Hey, I´m not some Voodoo toll!" protested the patient, as Hot Lips smiled with satisfaction.  
  
"But you get better used to it, Doctor Pierce. Now, be a good boy, and sleep."  
  
"Only if you will sleep with me," argued Pierce with a smirk. Major Houlihan snorted and walked out, muttering something about incorrigibility.  
  
Finally alone, Hawkeye let out a sigh and pulled one of the compression down to his eyes. He forget to ask Margaret for some aspirin, and his head was nearly killing him. Soon, the amplion informed the camp about the delightful dinner, consisting of powdered eggs, mashed potatoes and something reminiscing meat.  
  
"Hello, outlander,"  
  
"Hey, Beej, come to see a convict?  
  
"And I thought, you will be occupied with some nurse."  
"Nope. No one came, I´m all alone with my head, which is actually trying to turn inside out."  
  
B.J. symphatetically nodded and sit next to Hawkeye.  
  
"I brought you some food."  
  
"From the messhall?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"I´m not really hungry."  
  
"You should eat," Hawkeye just rolled his eyes, the wet cloth slipping down his face.  
  
"Right, this isn´t very healthy food. How are you doing?"  
  
"The same as an hour ago. You have time?"  
  
"Yes. Winchester is at post-op, I will be tonight."  
  
"How is doing the boy?"  
  
"Which one?"  
  
"The last one, I worked on. Attempted suicide." B.J. frowned.  
  
"It wasn´t so attempted..."  
  
"When?"  
  
"Half hour. He got into shock."  
  
"Did I miss something?"  
  
"He didn´t had a chance, Hawkeye. Don´t bother yourself for it."  
  
The doors opened and nurse Baker stepped in.  
  
"Major Houlihan told me to give you a sponge bath, Dr. Pierce," said Baker with a smile. Hunnicut stood up, smirking at his friend.  
  
"I will leave you, to your "treatment", Hawkeye. Enjoy, " he whispered and was gone.  
  
"I´m all yours," said Hawkeye as nurse Baker came to the foot of his bed.  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx,  
  
The air cooled down a little, allowing the people of MASH 4077 some rest. B.J. Hunnicut was sitting in the post-op, talking to the boy with the three bullets in his gut, who was still unconscious. Margaret Houlihan walked in and B.J. looked at her questioningly.  
  
"He will pull through." she motioned to the boy.  
  
"Prescott? I don´t know. He should´ve been awake, by now." B.J. stepped to major Houlihan. "How´s Hawkeye?"  
  
"His temp is up - almost 104. Father Mulcahy is with him now. I don´t think it´s a good idea, put him to VIP´s tent. He can get critical, and I can´t spare a nurse just for him."  
  
"Is he coherent? No signs of disorientation?"  
  
"He was pretty restless but Father Mulcahy talked him to sleep." B.J. grinned at that.  
  
"Did he ate something?"  
  
"Little. At least he´s drinking properly, even if he´s complaining, that the Martini isn´t too dry."  
  
The boy on the bed moaned and B.J. was next to him in a moment.  
  
"Tim?" Prescott moaned again, but then became still. B.J. grabbed his wrist and was rewarded by a strong heartbeat. Sighing out in relief, he lifted up one eyelid.  
  
"Still unconscious, but I think he´s slowly waking up."  
  
"Pity, that his friend didn´t make it."  
  
"It´s still weird. First, he shot him, then stepped on the landmine? Why not shoot himself? I think, it´s easier and quite effective."  
"Maybe it wasn´t suicide attempt after all," thought Margaret absently, while taking vitals of another patient. "It could be an accident."  
  
"That would do it a pretty off-day."  
  
No one saw the leer on the face of the young man with a shot wound in his leg. His eyes were shining with malice. He will wait for the right moment.  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Father Mulcahy left VIP´s tent, when the sky darkened and stars were shining through silver clouds, which were promising storm. Hawkeye was left in the company of nurse named Loren, who was moved from MASH 8063th. She was writing his temp on the chart, and was going to give him a sponge bath, to bring down the fever raging in his body. But Hawkeye didn´t enjoy it, he didn´t even try to seduce her. Hawkeye Pierce was pretty much out cold.  
  
Heat changed into cold, streaming through his veins to heart and stomach. Seeing only white plane, Hawkeye was distraughted by the sudden change of the surrounding. For one second, he really thought, that dead claimed him.  
  
"Hey, wait! Who are you?" shouted Hawkeye at the vague figure walking away from him. The man - Hawkeye now saw the army clothes and haircut - slowly turned.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"James. But everybody call me Jim." The figure dissappeard and Hawkeye wanted to yell from confusion and - to be honest - also from fear, when someone touched his shoulder. Hawkeye spun around to look straight into the familiar face.  
  
"Y-you?" Hawkeye stammered, eyes wide with fear. Not being the one religiously founded, the spirit world wasn´t close to him. But seeing the man, who just few hours ago died, can shake someone´s faith.  
  
"It wasn´t my fault."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Tim. I didn´t kill him..."  
  
"He isn´t dead,"  
  
Jim tilted his head than shrugged.  
  
"But he will be, if you don´t stop him."  
  
"I don´t understand this. You are dead?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Am I dead?"  
  
"No."  
  
"So, why than, am I seeing you?"  
  
The ghostly figure let out a sigh.  
  
"You must stop him!"  
  
"No," protested Hawkeye. "This isn´t making sense. You should´ve been talking with father Mulcahy..."  
  
"You tried to save my life."  
  
"And I failed! Isn´t that telling you something?"  
  
"He will kill him."  
  
"Who? Who want to kill whom?" asked Pierce in frustration.  
  
"I don´t know, who it was. But he´s still wanting to kill Tim. And you must stop him!" The place began to cloud over. Jim was lost in the mist and Hawkeye was back, trashing in his bed and mumbling: "No, come back... who is it? No!"  
  
"Hawk! Come on, wake up," urged him B.J., while Hawkeye twisted and shook his head in denial.  
  
"Must stop him," whispered Pierce and with a final No! bolted up in bed, almost knocking B.J. down. Breathing too fast, his head was spinning.  
  
"Calm down," guided him B.J.. "One deep breath, now, let it slowly out."  
  
Hawkeye obeyed and was looking around the little room, as if searching for someone.  
  
"Where?" he asked, confused.  
  
"VIP tent. Hawk... you all right?"  
  
Stupid question, ragged himself B.J., seeing the look on his bunkie´s face.  
  
"Where´s Jim?"  
  
"Who?" B.J. put a hand on Hawkeye´s shoulder to stop him from standing, then touched his face. "You´re delirious."  
  
"No, he was..." Hawkeye stopped. How can he explain Hunnicut, what had just happened a while ago? Why, he himself couldn´t accept it. He let B.J. push him down with a scowl, but was really grateful for the cup of water.  
  
"Here, drink. Who´s Jim?"  
  
Playing with the water longer, then was necessary, Hawkeye considered the answer.  
  
"My last patient."  
  
"But... he´s dead. You know it."  
  
Hawkeye nodded, immediatelly regretting the movement.  
  
"Shit... my head´s killing me." he got out through clenched teeth and B.J. get into the doctor mood, counting his pulse and heartbeat with a great interest. Hawkeye let him do the examination, trying to find out, what happened on that place and what he can do about it.  
  
"Your temp is down a degree," told him B.J. with a sigh. "At least something."  
  
"You have news from 8063th?"  
  
B.J. uncomfortably looked away, trying to miss the question by giving Hawkeye a dose of antibiotics.  
  
"Beej," hissed Hawkeye as the needle found it´s target. "You´re as lousy with injections, as Margaret," he protested grumbly.  
"Bad news?" he asked again and seeing B.J.´s curt nod, gulped down a portion of fear.  
  
"One of them fell into a coma." watching every expression, crossing Hawkeye´s face, B.J. quickly added: "But the other two, who were after the stage of fever, are all right. The last one is doing like you."  
  
"Yeah, he´s seeing ghosts?"  
"So, that´s Jim. Hawkeye... you had fever 104,5 at the time. It was all just a dream."  
  
"Can... can you please check on Tim?"  
  
The surprise on B.J.´s face was real and Hawkeye felt a little satisfaction from it.  
  
"Tim Prescott?"  
"He didn´t told me his full name. I think it should be the guy with three bullets, you remember him, right?"  
  
"How do you know his name?"  
  
"Jim told me. And some other things, too. Want to hear them?"  
  
B.J. nodded, curious. If it was just a piece of imagination, he´ll better know, what´s Hawkeye thinking. And if not...  
  
"Jim told me, he´s innocent. He didn´t try to kill Prescott."  
  
"Yeah, it was an accident,"  
  
"No. Someone else did it. Shot Prescott, then tried to kill Jim. And he want´s to finish it."  
  
"That´s ridiculous," objected B.J.. "Nobody is trying to kill-"  
  
"No!" protested Hawkeye wildly. "Something is going on, Beej. You must look out for Prescott. He´s in danger."  
  
Hunnicut was opening his mouth to protest, but Hawkeye stopped him.  
  
"Beej. How many times did I ask you for help?"  
  
"I can´t count it," answered Hunnicut with a smirk, then sobered. "Hawk, I´m just trying to tell you, that you was dreaming at the time. There isn´t any ghost talking with you. Why would it? You´re ill and can´t help him in any way."  
  
Hawkeye couldn´t disprove the last sentence, but he will not let it be so easily.  
  
"Please, B.J., believe me. Prescott is in danger, and someone must watch him."  
  
"Hawk, Prescott is in Post-Op. With another bunch of soldiers and nurses. There is no way, someone could kill him there."  
  
But B.J.´s words wasn´t nearly as true, as he thought.  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
The first bolt came suddenly, like a falling bomb. Some nurses and patients jerked and awakened, others slept along without so much as stirring. Mike Timber opened his eyes to the dimly lit room and waited. There was still two nurses and the doctor who worked on Prescott. But his chance will soon come, he felt it. Tim Prescott will pay.  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
The darkness was back, and Hawkeye found himself in the place smothered with white mist. Nothingess, that would describe the place. No sound, no smell. He felt hot and cold waves running through him, but nothing more.  
  
On the ground knelt Jim, looking worried. Hawkeye headed for him with a feeling of urgency.  
  
"You´re back?" asked him the boy.  
  
"Me? I thought, you´re coming after me," wondered Pierce.  
  
"No. I´m waiting, nothing more. It´s your decision to come."  
  
"But..."  
  
"We have only a while, doctor. It will happen, soon. You must stop him."  
  
"How?"  
  
"Do you believe me?"  
  
The question was sincere, but Hawkeye got a feeling, that Jim was planning something, that he won´t like.  
  
"I don´t know you, Jim. But... yeah, I believe you."  
  
"That´s all I ask for. Give me your hand, doctor Pierce."  
  
Hawkeye hesitated.  
  
"Please," the urgency increased and Jim´s eyes were shining with hope, when Hawkeye extended his hand and Jim grabbed it with a force, that was challenging the theories about spiritual body.  
  
The darkness changed into the lightning on the sky and heavy raindrops were soaking through Hawkeye´s army shirt and shorts. His bare legs were covered by mud and every step he took was followed by a spattering sound. It was weird, how a man could lose control over his own body. Hawkeye was somewhere in the background, thinking, what would he do, if someone finds him wandering the "streets" of 4077th,  
  
It was Jim who led him to the post-op. Hawkeye could only watch and wonder, when the boltning came down straight into the room with generators and everything went so white, he thought, the world had vanished. But it was just his eyes, which were blinded. After seconds of whiteness, his sight began to adjust to the real darkness. Hawkeye´s steps were heading to the post-op, just within a hair evading B.J. Hunnicut, who was send to find out, what´s with the generator. Hiding in the shadows, Hawkeye waited, until his friend disappeard in the rain, and he walked into the post-op, where the nurses tried to calm the patients. Some of the injured were thinking, that they´re back in their nightmare - on the front.  
  
Hawkeye was caught in place like a deer, when one of the nurses called: "Doctor, I need a little help here," but the other nurse told her, that B.J. was outside. Hawkeye clenched his teeth, wanting to help them, but not able to do so. His body was moving and he could only watch, what the stranger, whom he believed, was going to do.  
  
One of the occupants was lying quietly on his bed, sleeping under sedatives and calmly breathing. But he wasn´t alone. Another form was leaning over him with a big stuffed thing in his hands. Hawkeye was next him in a moment, before he could put the pillow on Prescott´s face and smother him, like a child.  
  
"No!" grumbled Hawkeye, his voice lost in the raging storm. But the man turned and for a second, time didn´t matter. It was just Hawkeye and him. The pillow dropped at the floor and Hawkeye barely evaded the swing of a crutch, directed at his head. Losing his balance, Hawkeye crashed into the wall with a whump, that took the breath out of his lungs. The man with crutches took another swing, this time hitting Hawkeye in the stomach. Hawkeye yelped, but it was a soft sound compared to the storm outside, and no one came to his help. His vision clouded over when Jim took over, and Hawkeye stood up, steady and straight, as if nothing happened. The man frowned and tried to hit him, but this time, Hawkeye side-stepped and hit him in the face with a fist. The man slumped down, halfly laying on Prescott´s bed. Tim moaned and moved his head. Hawkeye leaned over him with a smile, that couldn´t be seen, ruffled his hair and said:  
  
"You´ll be safe, Timmy. I´d make sure of that. But... you must be strong. Tell the doctors, who tried to kill us. You must tell them, okay?"  
  
Tim nodded, confused and tired, but understanding. Hawkeye let out a sigh of relief. The form on the floor wasn´t a danger anymore - he was pretty good knocked unconscious. But the storm began to abate, and Hawkeye saw the light from batterries. B.J. was coming.  
  
Hurriedly, Hawkeye left the post-op, somehow evading the two nurses, Hunnicut, even Margaret, who was awakened by the boltning. He made it in the rain, not as strong, but there anyway, to the VIP´s tent, and without a word, slumped to his bed, asleep. Half hour later, when the nurse came in, he didn´t even stir. But the nurse did, when she saw the mud on his feet, and his wet clothes and hairs. She cursed like a lady shouldn´t, and turned on her heels, to call reinforcement.  
  
A while later, B.J. Hunnicut came in, along with Margaret Houlihan, who was ready to chew him out, because she felt, that letting Hawkeye alone in here was a bad idea.  
  
B.J. shook his head in amazement and doubt, also in anger, because it seemed, like Hawkeye wandered the camp right in the storm. Thinking, what could´ve happened, if he was near the generators, B.J. shivered. Margaret in the meantime began the inspection, snarling, while she washed Hawkeye´s feet, so that the bed don´t get more dirty, than it already was. B.J. leaned over him and began to check his vitals.  
  
"We should change his clothes," he suggested, "before he get also pneumonia."  
  
"Strip him, then tie down to bed, so he can´t move," voted Margaret and B.J. scowled at her. Sure, this was Hawkeye, but he didn´t deserve such a medieval practics. Maybe they could drug him, thought B.J. smirking.  
  
"At least, his fever is down a little."  
  
"I wonder how long. He´s the coldest person in this camp, at the while."  
  
"Yeah. Help me, I need to sit him up, so we can get the shirt off him." Margaret mumbled something, but helped B.J. Holding Hawkeye´s back, she didn´t see the big bruise on his left side, but B.J. did. Cursing, he took the shirt off and motioned to Margaret to lay him down.  
  
"What´s that?" he asked, furious. "It looks like someone punched him pretty hard."  
  
"But who? And why? Hell, he could hardly stand." B.J. began to examine the bruise, pushing at it, when Hawkeye moaned and tried to twist from his touch.  
  
"Hawkeye? Come on, wake up. I need to talk with you."  
  
Hawkeye groaned and opened his left eye, blinking to the light. The spare generator was functioning.  
  
"Cold," he muttered and tried to pull the blanket over himself, but B.J. stopped him.  
  
"I know you´re cold. That´s the result of your wandering in the rain. You´re soaked."  
"You stripped me?" asked Hawkeye dazedly.  
  
"No, but it´s on the best way. What were you doing outside, Hawk?"  
  
"Huh? Outside?"  
  
"Yeah, the place where it´s raining. You´re soaked, your hair is wet. I´d tell, you were out."  
"Uhm," Hawkeye was slowly remembering the recent events, and moaned, not for the discomfort he felt, but from thoughts, what will he tell B.J.. And Margaret, came the second thought, when Major Houlihan unceremoniously threw him clean shorts. Hawkeye didn´t notice, she was away.  
  
"Change."  
  
"Oh no, I won´t strip before her," he protested.  
  
"Pierce, I´ve seen your butt more times, than I would like to think of. Don´t be a baby and change."  
  
"Turn."  
  
Margaret scowled, but B.J. nodded and she let out a frustrated sigh.  
  
"Okay, be an ass. I´m going back to post-op, where normal patients needs a "normal" care. Doctors," she slammed the doors, and Hawkeye jerked.  
  
"She´s mad," he muttered, changing into dry shorts, wincing in the process.  
  
"Just like me," answered B.J. and Hawkeye looked down.  
  
"Who hit you?"  
  
"Uh... I don´t know," replied Hawkeye with a shrug - it was true. He don´t know, who was it. "Do you care to tell me, what happened?"  
  
"I don´t think, you would believe me,"  
  
"Try."  
  
Hawkeye nodded and slowly lay down, feeling the throbbing in his body, but also the chills.  
  
"You hurt anywhere else?" asked B.J. in concern.  
  
"No, just the usual. Plus my side, like a bonus."  
  
"Yeah. It´ll be sore a few days, but I don´t think, anything is broken. Probably just bruising."  
  
"It´s enough," hissed Hawkeye as B.J. touched the rough spot. "Hey, it´s my bruise. Take your own, if you like it, but leave my alone."  
  
Hunnicut smiled and with a sigh pulled the blanket over Hawkeye´s trembling body.  
  
"What were you doing in the previous hour?"  
  
"Can I just ask you something, Beej?"  
  
"Depending..."  
  
"You found him?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"The... the man with crutches. He should´ve been on the floor, next to Tim´s bed. I know, I knocked him down," For a confirmation, Hawkeye demonstrated his fist with raw knuckles. B.J. inspected it with a frown, turning the hand in his.  
  
"Pretty. Any other places with broken bones or other injuries?" Hawkeye chuckled.  
  
"No. That´s all."  
  
"So now you can answer my question, what the hell were you doing in post-op?"  
  
"I- don´t think, even I can accept it, Beej. But... Jim was here." And Hawkeye told him everything, he remembered. B.J. was first looking dubiously.  
  
"You hit your head, too?" he asked Hawkeye, as he was talking about the conflict with the stranger.  
"Damn, Beej," protested Hawkeye, "I´m telling you the truth."  
  
"Yeah, with ghost and attempted murder."  
  
"Yes! Look, believe what you wan´t. I´m just telling you, that someone with crutches and a fine bruise on his cheek, tried to kill Tim Prescott. I didn´t hit myself, if you think that."  
  
"No, I don´t think that," protested B.J. fiercely.  
  
"Fine. Than go to post-op and look at the patients. I´m sure, you will find him.And... talk with Prescott. He will tell you, what happened."  
  
"Prescott is still unconscious."  
  
"No, he isn´t. I talked with him."  
  
"And?"  
  
"And nothing. It was just a second. Please, Beej... just go."  
  
B.J. sighed, then after a quick nod, headed out, stopping by the doors.  
  
"This time, stay in bed, you understand? Otherwise, I´ll help Hot Lips tie you to bed."  
  
"Gosh, I didn´t know that Hot Lips is wanting me so much," joked Hawkeye and B.J. left him alone with his thoughts. They wasn´t very romantic or comical, so Hawkeye rather fell asleep.  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
The night changed into morning, then to another hot day. It brought some news, but Hawkeye didn´t hear them. He was in deep sleep, his body raged with fever. The doctors and nurses in MASH 4077 were occupied by a last dose of injured from the front, spending their time in operation room or post-op. Hawkeye was left to a tending care of father Mulcahy or one of the nurses, which one had a time. Soon, the VIP´s only occupant was joined by another patient, as the camp was short of beds and place in post-op.  
  
It was indeed weird to woke up thinking, you´re alone, just to hear someone cough and tell you Hi. Hawkeye turned his head and surprisingly stayed silent. Here, on the next bed, lay Tim Prescott with a sheepish smile on his pale face.  
  
"Hey," answered Hawkeye yawning. "What are you doing here? I thought..."  
  
"They brought me here yesterday, Dr. Pierce," answered Tim. "I, ah - I asked them to."  
  
"Why? Moment, yesterday?" Hawkeye was really confused.  
  
"Well, yeah. You see, doctor, you was out cold for almost three days. And I asked to be brought here because - well - Doctor Hunnicut told me, that you saved my life. On the post-op wasn´t enough place and I wanted to thank you in person."  
  
"Three days?" repeated Hawkeye and looked around. An infusion attached to his hand was slowly dripping, next to his head was a bowl with water. But one look at Tim, and Hawkeye smiled.  
  
"So... you here for so long? You should tell me, what happened. They caught him?"  
  
"Yes. I woke up that morning after the storm, and told them, who shot me."  
  
"They didn´t catch him?" asked the surprised Hawkeye.  
  
"No. Apparently, Timber´s had a head injury earlier, and you hit him, where he was bandaged. It knocked him out, but he came to himself and creeped into his bed, so doctor Hunnicut didn´t found him. But after that, the post-op was too crowded for him to do anything, just wait. Once I got up..."  
  
Just then the doors opened and B.J. Hunnicut walked in, smiling, when his eyes found Hawkeye.  
  
"Hawk! Jeez, don´t do this to me again. I thought, that you´re gonna leave me with Winchester as the only bunkie. I´m going crazy from him."  
  
"Good to see you, too," replied Hawkeye.  
  
"Now, how do you feel?"  
  
"Better than in the last three days, I hear. At least my neck´s not so stiff anymore." Hawkeye shifted on the bed, moaning, "Even if the rest of me is. Get this thing out of me," he pointed at the infusion.  
  
"Let it drip out, Hawk. We don´t have to waste."  
  
Hawkeye rolled his eyes, but obeyed.  
  
"What´s the prognosis, doctor Hunnicut?" asked Hawkeye in professional tone, and Tim Prescott chuckled.  
  
"Oh, once you get some brain into the head of yours, it should be fine."  
  
"Any news from 8063?"  
  
"They´ve another three cases. For now, it´s three dead, two in critical condition, and three recovered or on the way to recover."  
  
Hawkeye was silently watching the grim face of his friend, and realized, how lucky he was. Not only because he survived this, but also for the friends, he found around him.  
  
"Where´s Timber now?"  
  
"On the way to Soul."  
  
"What?!" Hawkeye´s eyes were unbelievingly staring at them, and B.J. couldn´t hold the laughter, first one in the last three days. .  
  
"In the company of MP´s, going straight into custody, then maybe Leavenworth."  
  
"Yeah. Just what he deserves," said grimly Tim Prescott, thinking about Jim.  
  
"Well, I´ll leave you two for a moment. Don´t overdo it, boys," with that, B.J. left.  
  
"So, why was Timber wanting to kill you?"  
  
"I saw him... doing something," Tim gulped and stared at the ceiling. Hawkeye allowed him a moment of much needed silence.  
  
"What did he do, Tim?"  
  
"We - were on our way to Inchon, when our tire went flat. You know, how hot it can get, in this month. The nearest unit was twenty miles away and Mike just got creepy. He was weird the whole time - I mean - it was characteristic for him to act strange. But, that was just too..." Tim shook his head.  
  
"We began to walk, but two miles away, Mike turned and said, that he must return to Jeep, because he left his gun here. It was true. So, he returned and we was waiting, but it took too long, so I headed after him. Tim and one other guy, Kyle, was going ahead, while I was walking back to the Jeep. When I was near the place, shot rang out, so I began to run. I found Mike changing the tire from another Jeep. It was... it was a South Korean Jeep. I thought, that the Koreans were helping him, but then I saw the Korean soldier in British uniform, laying in the bush, with a hole in his head. Mike killed the man, so we don´t have to walk in the heat. It was our ally, but he saw only a Korean. No difference."  
  
Hawkeye was shocked by the testimony, no more by Timber´s atrocity.  
  
"What did you do?"  
  
"Nothing. I couldn´t...tell it to anyone. I didn´t see the act, and Mike sweared, that it was just a self defense. I didn´t believe him, and he put the gun to my head, telling me, that if I open my mouth, I´ll be dead. So I kept it in silence, because I was afraid."  
  
"But he tried to kill you,"  
  
"That was a week later. He thought, that I talked about it with Jim. And... it would´ve been true, but he was faster. We had a watch, when Mike heard some commotion. It was a trap... Jim got to look - and than I only heard the explosion and run after him. When I turned to call at Mike, he was standing here, with a gun aiming at me. I don´t really remember, when the first bullett hit me. Our CO was here two days ago, and told me, that some North Korean shot Timbers, when he was "calling for help". I think it was my luck, because Timbers would´ve make sure, that both me and Jim were dead."  
  
"I´m sorry," said Hawkeye after a while. He couldn´t understand, why would someone do such a thing - and in the war like this...  
  
"Still, I´m very grateful for your help."  
  
Hawkeye turned away, once again ashamed.  
  
"It wasn´t really me.."  
  
"Doctor Hunnicut told me about Jim," confessed Tim.  
  
"He did?"  
  
"Yeah, I can be pretty adamant, when I want to. And if you remember, I wasn´t so unconscious at the time, you saved me."  
  
"You heard...?"  
  
"I heard Jim, but saw you. I hope, that Jim is at better place, than Korea. Maybe he´s dancing with some angel nurse," chuckled Tim and Hawkeye joined him.  
  
"Yeah, maybe. Or he´s watching out for someone else."  
  
That was Hawkeye´s first and maybe the last encounter with ghost.  
  
The End  
  
.


End file.
